


アン·アイアウトしてください

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Asexual Mikasa Ackerman, HAHA YES, Heterochromia au, M/M, Other tags to be added, Pansexual Eren Jaeger, Sorry Not Sorry, mama mikasa is here to help, not much angst, this is a very gay fic, this is kinda happy and boring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stared at the mirror in front of him, his reflection matching the thoughtful look stuck on his face. He had always spent quite a while in the bathroom since he was young, just staring at his reflection's mismatched eyes.<br/>One was a bright blue, like the ocean waves in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was shining just right over the salty water. This was his right eye. His natural color. The other was more green, yet it was still blue. Almost teal colored, the exact color of a beryl crystal. It was as if you had painted blue onto a blank canvas, and then rubbed in emerald green with a sponge, then threw blue and green streamers onto the wet paint until it dried there. His mother and father had no idea that eyes could even be such a color until their only son was born. This beautiful color, was the color of the eye of his soulmate, a color that would take over both of his soulmate's eyes as his faded to their naturally pale blue shade. It almost took his breath away, seeing the color of the one eye that didn't belong to him, and how somebody someplace was walking around with an eye that wasn't theirs either, an eye that was his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	アン·アイアウトしてください

Armin Arlert was always the type of boy to get locked onto anything he found remotely interesting, moving fast through subjects and starting new topics before he had finished the previous one, but there was nothing in this entire world that could distract him from the idea of his soulmate. 

Whether it was reading up or talking to a scientist that knew all about this type of thing that his grandfather had set him up with as a tutor, he was always trying to get around every stretch and corner of this universal constant known as a soulmate. 

It was set in stone that your soulmate would be another person with eyes just like yours, only on opposite sides of each other. Your right eye was your natural eye color, your left eye being that of your soulmate's. Once the two of them fall in love with each other, their eyes change to match their natural color. He had no idea how anybody wouldn't be fascinated with such a thing.

Yet, the older he got, the less, yet even more persistent he got with finding this soulmate of his. Looking at people's eyes whenever they spoke. Squinting at people with sunglasses on to see through them better. Feeling ridiculously jealous of the people who passed by with matching eye colors. 

He stared at the mirror in front of him, his reflection matching the thoughtful look stuck on his face. He had always spent quite a while in the bathroom since he was young, just staring at his reflection's mismatched eyes. 

One was a bright blue, like the ocean waves in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was shining just right over the salty water. This was his right eye. His natural color. The other was more green, yet it was still blue. Almost teal colored, the exact color of a beryl crystal. It was as if you had painted blue onto a blank canvas, and then rubbed in emerald green with a sponge, then threw blue and green streamers onto the wet paint until it dried there. His mother and father had no idea that eyes could even be such a color until their only son was born. This beautiful color, was the color of the eye of his soulmate, a color that would take over both of his soulmate's eyes as his faded to their naturally pale blue shade. It almost took his breath away, seeing the color of the one eye that didn't belong to him, and how somebody someplace was walking around with an eye that wasn't theirs either, an eye that was his. 

He finally exited the restroom, heading back down the short hallway to his bedroom, prancing over to pick up a book he had on the subject, only to open it up to the book's checkout card falling out and less than gracefully flopping to the floor by his feet. He bent over to pick it up, suddenly reminded of the horrors more commonly known as overdue library books. "Please don't be overdue, please don't be..-" He mumbled to himself, his expression falling when the return date came into view. November second. Yesterday. Not by much, but definitely some. 

The boy snatched up all of his books and stacked them onto his bed, scooping up his mostly empty backpack and shoving them all inside with rushed care. He threw the backpack over one shoulder, running by the mirror again to make sure he looked like he hadn't just been hit by a bus before running down the stairs and to the front door. 

He waved to his grandfather, who was standing around the kitchen doing his best to bake a birthday cake for his grandson without burning it or leaving it to be too soggy. "I'm going to drop off these books, I'll be back in time for cake!" He called out, turning the knob. 

"Alright, alright." His grandpa chuckled from the kitchen, opening and closing the oven to check on the baked good inside. "Be careful now." He told him before watching him leave through the front door and down the pavement pathway that led from the sidewalk to the front porch step. 

He stepped outside into the cool, just-about-Winter air, keeping a sharp eye out for anybody with eyes the same light hue as his were. 

Today was Armin Arlert's eighteenth birthday, and he still hadn't given up hope. 

 

Today was exactly two-hundred eighteen and a half days from Eren Jaeger's eighteenth birthday and he had given up so much hope that he was practically selling it.

But today was different, so much different. Today, he saw his soulmate. Walking along the sidewalk like he hadn't a care in the world. Blond hair tousled from the wind and bright mismatched eyes glancing from the crosswalk light he was waiting for to the sky on occasion, hugging his hands tightly around the backpack straps on his shoulders. 

He had tried to speed past a yellow light, but missed it by a second and had to slam the brakes so that he couldn't risk getting a ticket. His sister would totally give him shit for that later. He slouched over slightly at how long this was taking, until his eyes caught site of that boy he had been talking about just a second ago. The one with his eye. The one who's eye he had. The one that was now crossing the street. The one that was now leaving his line of sight and he felt as though he was practically walking right out of his life and staining the welcome mat with mud on his way out, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Going after him would not only scare him but probably get the police called on him, which he definitely wasn't going to risk. He'd never been to jail before, and 'I was following my soulmate' isn't what he would want to say when he's asked what he's in for, if that's even something people still ask. 

The light had turned to green, and he'd only noticed when the person behind him honked their horn and threatened to ram into him unless he moved forward. He also heard, 'You drive slower than my dead grandmother!', but he wasn't going to add onto that. 

He drove until he found the white house with a red door with a little pot of roses hung above the doorframe. Every single house on this street was white, with a red door. His sister's house, however, was the only one of which with flowers scattered all around the place. Eren pulled into the driveway, hopping out of the car and walking right in through the front door without bothering to knock. "Mikasa?" He called out, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over the coat hanger. "You home?"

She walked into the room from the kitchen, her black hair tied up, a few dark strands not being long enough to tie back and hanging loosely around her face, a frying pan in one hand. "You still can't knock, I'm guessing."

He laughed. "Of course I can, but I live here now so deal with it. What're you cooking?" He walked past her and into the kitchen. It smelled of pancake mix, and the warmth radiating from the stove was also a familiar scent. Mikasa had told him before that heat didn't have a smell, but he knew for a fact that wasn't true. It smelled vaguely like, well, the way you think warmth would, like a fire licking the walls of an open fireplace. Like inhaling under a couple of soft blankets. It just smells, warm.

Mikasa's house always smelled nice, he'd visited a few times before his own disappeared into his past and he'd done his best to long forget about it. "What's got you in such a good mood?" His sister asked, pouring the batter onto the empty pan. 

He fell back onto a stool by a counter, leaning his elbows back on the marble countertop. "I found my soulmate." He told her. 

Her head snapped to the side, her expression going from straight to serious. "Eren." She warned. "I thought you had given up on the whole soulmate thing."

It was true, Eren had wanted nothing to do with this soulmate thing. His parents were soulmates, and they met when they were fourteen. Mikasa was born with matching grey eyes, and it all made sense when she came out as an aromatic asexual when she was sixteen. Eren, however, was eighteen years old and still hadn't found his soulmate. He was told not to give up hope, but he'd decided they were dead, or a straight man, or even a gay woman. Maybe his soulmate was on the other side of the planet. He'd officially stopped caring. He'd never find this soulmate of his, and he was completely fine with it, but when he saw the blond boy standing at the crosswalk, his whole world burst into color.

"I did." He told her. "But I saw him, Mikasa, I did. He was crossing the street. He had the same eyes as me, I swear to God." Eren persisted.

"You....didn't actually talk to him?"

"Well.....No....." He pushed himself off the counter, slouching forward.

"How do you actually know that he's your soulmate then? You're just going off of what you've seen from a distance." Mikasa flipped the pancake, the cooked side a dark creamy brown. 

"Which is why I have to find him!" He sat back up, determination in his voice.

His sister sighed. "Okay, Eren. Just...be careful, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

He felt as though she had just punched him in the gut. He wasn't colorblind, and he knew what color his eyes were. He would be able to tell from a mile away, this boy was his soulmate. His features were etched into his mind, blond hair, circular eyes and a chin that blended in with his round face, with a nose that looked like a button. He was probably the cutest person he'd ever saw, he'd admit. He wanted to jump into the sky and scream it to the whole world, but all he could do was slump over Mikasa's kitchen counter and sigh over somebody he's never spoken to.

"Your huge crush aside, eat some food." She set a plate of pancakes and eggs down in front of him. 

Eren poked it with the fork she set down moments later. "Breakfast at one in the afternoon?"

"If we can have breakfast for dinner, we can have breakfast for lunch." She sat down across from him with her own plate of food. 

He shrugged, still poking at his meal lazily. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "Tell me about this soulmate of yours at dinner."

 

Armin opened the door to his home, dropping his backpack by the door and turning to walk into the kitchen when his grandfather suddenly jumped out with a cake in his hands. "Happy birthday, kiddo." He laughed when Armin had already complained about how he was going to give him heart problems and he'd die before he was twenty five. 

His grandson laughed for about a half a minute straight at the sight, which was a simple vanilla cake with strawberry frosting and candles shaped like the numbers eight and one, only it was placed backwards. "Grandpa, I'm not eighty one."

"What? I could've sworn.." He joined in the laughter, setting it down on the dining room table. 

They sat and ate, Armin opened presents, and then they went out to dinner which only ended in more people singing the classic 'happy birthday' song at him and embarrassing him in a restaurant full of people. He wasn't five years old, but he sure felt like it with a party hat on his head and a lone cupcake dazzled up on the plate in front of him. He covered his face with his hands and groaned, his cheeks burning. He would say that he couldn't remember the last time he felt this embarrassed, but his grandfather did this every year and he still hasn't gotten over it. He prayed that he wouldn't take him out when his twenty first birthday rolled around. 

After the entire scene ended and the two had returned to their car, Armin's grandfather spoke up. "There was a boy staring at you the entire time."

Armin had been looking out the window, his elbow rested against the car door and his cheek rested on his fist, but he almost slipped off when he heard this info. "Who was he?"  
"I don't know him, but he looked around your age." He turned a corner, driving down their street. 

"What, are you my matchmaker now?" The younger Arlert was feeling very much uncomfortable with this conversation, wishing he'd caught this so called stranger in the act so he could have an idea of who he was. 

"I think it's for the best that you two meet." He pulled into the driveway, taking the keys from the ignition as the car whirred to a stop. 

"Yes, I should become good friends with any creep that stares at me in restaurants. Good idea." He replied, a bit more sarcastic than he'd intended to be. He got out of the car, but didn't shut the door as he was the only one that had. 

"Armin." His grandpa said, his voice not angry but serious. He really meant what he was saying to him. "You really should look for this guy."

He puffed up his cheeks, a little frown on his face. "Why?" 

"Because, Armin." He said, his tone even more serious, if that was possible. "He has the same color eyes as you do."

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!! i havent updated this story in AGES but im going to try!
> 
> im rereading it and i realize that i have some potential and should try to continue writing it. thanks for all the nice words and comments about this old thing. expect some possible updates in the next coming months.
> 
> my tumblr is computerjeff


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